


He's A Problem Child

by Hellenaa



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drugs, Gen, Murder, Physical Abuse, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 10:01:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1506383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hellenaa/pseuds/Hellenaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi lives in a broken home, everything's shit. Including living.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's A Problem Child

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god, ok so I was listening to music and sing for the moment by eminem came on and I got hit with a one shot idea.  
> Lithi my trusty editer helped me edit this myself, so I learned a few things about what was wrong with my writing initially.
> 
> This was more or less just practice to get out of my slump for my main fic, and to get my writing juices going.
> 
> Sorry theres no pairings!

                _Shit._

               Everything was shit, this song, this room, this house, this “family”. I laughed aloud. Family, what did it mean, the people that you shared blood with? The people that were tied to you by broken vows and promises that would never stay forever? Family didn’t exist. Those people that shared my blood were either passed out on the couch downstairs or nowhere to be found.

               I turned the music up, staring at the ceiling. Man this sucked. Why did I even bother? I bit my lip, wincing as the cut reopened. Maybe I’d hit him back today. Yea, that’d be cool. I looked down at my hand, my black sweater covering half of it, covering the bruises and cuts. I had a lot of bruises, because of _him_.

                _Fucking asshole._

               Yea, I’m gonna hit him back today. See how that goes, maybe yell at the unresponsive woman who sits on the couch all day, staring at static. I ran my hand through my hair, knocking my headphones off in the process, my music still loud enough for me to hear it. The woman was yelling at nothing again. I growled in frustration. Sliding off my bed and throwing my door open, planning to throw futile insults at her. She was too far gone, too far gone to respond to anyone, even the man she made broken vows to.

               Till death do us part? Yea, load of shit. You fucking left long before she died, you fucking bastard. Fuck you.

               Her screaming had gotten louder. Would you fucking _shut up_?

               I scream at her to shut up. Why was she yelling at the wall? screaming words that haven’t made sense in years. Nothing’s made sense in years. I wonder why.

               I grab her hand and yank her to look my way. Why did I have to have the same hair? The same mouth? The same jawline? Fuck this woman. She looked at me-no, through me, at nothing, and started crying. I yelled at her again, useless repeats of many days gone by. I never understood why she hadn’t died yet, mixing her prescription pills with the drugs he brought home. Maybe that was why she cried at nothing. I threw her hand back at her, she fell over on the couch, almost lifeless aside from her fast, shallow breaths. At least she’d stopped screaming.

               “Levi?” she called out.

               No, don’t you fucking _dare_.

               “Levi, honey, come here where Mommy can see you, she wants to see what you made in school today.”

               I stared at her, horrified with wide eyes. I hadn’t been to school in years. Had she really been that lost in time? Of course she had. Every since he left, everything went to shit, then worse. It wasn’t so bad then though, just me and her. She had some problems, but she was still _there._

               Then that man she claimed she loved came into our lives, and they said the broken vows once again of ‘till death do us part’, and everything just got worse. He got her so drugged up that she couldn’t even function properly, and he used her disability money on who knows what. Two bastards.

               She was asleep now, passed out in her ramblings for her innocent son that no longer existed. No, he was killed years ago, first by the man I shared blood with, then second by the man you wanted me to call “father”. Why hadn’t she seen then?

               I bit my cheek, tasting blood, fighting back the tears that stung my eyes. I didn’t cry, not anymore. I flipped the T.V. off since there was no point in keeping it on. Nothing would ever play on it, not anymore.

               I didn’t want him in my room, so I sat myself on one of the dining room chairs. It creaked under my weight, I clenched my fist. Open, close, open, close.

               Any minute now, he would walk in the door, angry for whatever reason or another. I never knew why he was angry, it’s not like he was ever here for anything other than to get money, food, and to take his anger out on me. So I waited, counting the seconds, the seconds turned to minutes, and the minutes turned into an hour. There he is, keys in the door.

              _Click._

               The door opened and he was tossing his jacket aside, as pissed off as he always looked. I stared at him, my eyes probably more than dead looking. This seemed to piss him off further.

               “You got something to say, boy?” he growled huskily. Oh? Had he been drinking?

               “Yea, I fucking do,” I replied, putting emphasis on the swear.

               His face went red with anger. “We don’t swear in this house, boy! How many times do I need to tell you that!” he bellowed, stalking his way over towards my spot on the chair, reaching for my collar and pulling me out of my seat with a jerk. He was way too fucking tall, bastard.

               I stared at him and he jerked me forward, sending my head in one direction then the next. Bring his arm back, readying himself to punch me.

               “Pitiful,” I muttered. He growled, connecting his fist square in my jaw. Ow, I felt my jaw crack. Did I just lose a few teeth? Not like it mattered. My vision went white, then black. My senses were overloaded with pain and the smell of sweat.

               “I go out and work for this family everyday! Yet you want to call me pitiful?” he screamed.

               Hah, you’re such a liar. You don’t have a good job, you don’t support anything. I honestly wonder how we haven’t lost the house; there’s no heat or cable, no phone, either. So what exactly were you paying for you bag of shit?

               I wanted to counter his words, but I couldn’t move my jaw; he may have broken it. Shit, it hurt.

               He shoved my back. I almost fell on my ass, but I managed to steady myself on the table, the loud sound of it sliding against the floor by the sudden pressure. I was surprised it didn’t break, giving how old it was.

               He glared down at me, belittling me as if I were a mere ant. Fuck him. Fuck everything. I pulled my arm back and balled my hand into a fist, swinging before he even had any time to react. I heard a satisfying crack and he cried out, hands going to his nose and blood gushed through his fingers. Yea, fuck you.

               Fuck this house.

               He curled into himself on the floor, babbling like a child who hurt himself.

               Fucking pathetic.

               My entire body felt numb, guess that was better than the pain all over.

               I moved, leaving him on the floor and heading upstairs, into his “office”. It was just filled with drugs and a few weapons. Man, I was tired, I could go for a long sleep. Yea, that sounded good. I think everyone could go for a long sleep.

               I caught sight of a mirror in the room. I had his fucking eyes. The first “father” who ruined everything. I fucking hated it. I punched the mirror. That was better. Now I couldn’t see him. Now my hand was red, it must be cut. I couldn’t feel anything, though.

               I wanted to leave a note for whoever found us sleeping, so I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, and began writing.

 

              _They say music can alter moods and talk to you._

_Well, can it load a gun for you and cock it, too?_

_Yea, it can. Goodnight._

 

               Folding the paper, I shoved it in my pocket. It might get lost somewhere else. Now I needed one more thing before I went to sleep. Pulling the drawer out, I pulled it out, filled it, and hung it at my side. My legs were sluggish, and my music was still blaring. It hadn’t stopped. The numbness had ceased slightly, and I could feel a dull ache in my jaw. I didn’t care, it didn’t matter at this point. Hospitals were too expensive. Everything was too damn expensive.

               He was still crying on the floor when I made it back downstairs. I would laugh at him, if I could.

               He’d be asleep soon enough, but first. I wanted to the woman to sleep. She deserved to sleep first. Walking around him, I lifted my hand up and removed the safety.

                _Goodnight, Mother._

               I pulled the trigger.

              _Bang._

               I saw the man jolt in surprise on the floor beside me. He was looking up now. Shock and fear on his face. What a funny face to go to sleep with. Oh well, he didn’t deserve anything, he didn’t even deserve to go to sleep, but I was a nice person. I was forgiving, so he could go to sleep with me and the woman.

               He was stuttering apologies now. I didn’t really understand what he was sorry for. I’d already forgiven him. He’d started screaming now as I raised the gun to him, and pulled the trigger.

            _Bang._

_Goodnight, step-Father._

               There was a nice blanket of red all over the place now. It looked amazing, the most vibrant thing I’d seen in a long time. I wanted a blanket of red. I smiled, feeling the tears fall from my eyes. That wasn’t right.. I wasn’t supposed to cry any more.

               I lay down, soaking my hair and clothes in red. It was warm, too. It felt nice. I closed my eyes, bringing the gun to the side of my head. I could hear my mother’s voice, as clear as if she were right here now.

                _Goodnight, Levi._

               And I pulled the trigger.

              _Bang._


End file.
